The Devil Within
by OneWithHiccups
Summary: Bill's not done with Dipper yet. If he can't find a way to get stronger, Dipper may be subject to constant possessions forever... Rated T for possession and upcoming violent scenes
1. Chapter 1

_Inspired by the song "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers_

* * *

He usually wasn't awake so early in the morning. Then again, it wasn't him at all, now was it?

'Dipper' stood from his writing desk, almost knocking his chair over. His hand whipped out and caught it by the seat, holding it down and standing stark still. He slowly turned his head... and gold tinted eyes stared down at his sleeping sister. His mouth was slightly curling upwards, ready to crack a satanic grin.

But suddenly, it was shot down with a disgusted face. Golden eyes turned back into their original forest green, and he stumbled forward, letting go of the chair and letting it crash to the floor.

Mabel stirred in her bed, rolling over and rubbing her eyes with a moan. "Dipper? Mrmm... are you okay?"

His heart sped as she nearly woke up, and he shook his head and leaned away. "Y-yeah, I'm... I'm fine. Go back to sleep, Mabel."

"Mmhmm..." She hummed and rolled back over, falling back to sleep in only a few moments.

Dipper licked his lips, feeling cold sweat forming all over his body. He was chilled to the bone by the new information this black light had just shown him. _'Once possessed, the host is more susceptible to further possessions. The stronger the demon, the easier and more likely future possessions will occur. Weak hosts-such as ones which are young, sickly, mentally compromised, or nutrient or sleep deprived-are again more likely and easily possessed, especially after the first offense.'_ After he read it, Dipper felt light headed and suddenly found himself projected just slightly above himself, watching his body move on it's own accord for a few moments. He didn't feel completely disconnected from his body like he had last week, but he knew the feeling of that entity inside of him. It made his stomach drop.

Dipper closed his book and stood in the darkness of the room for a while. He could hear the clock downstairs ring 4:00, and knowing he hadn't slept all night made his heart beat even faster. He sat on his bed and buried his face in his hands, shaking. "No, no... nuh nuh nuh..." He mumbled in his hands. What if Bill came in the middle of the day? Or when he was holding his journal? Or near Mabel?

Feeling his legs tremble, he stood and picked up his book, walking over to Mabel's bed and lifting the corner of her pillow. He slid the book under it barely, so she'd know he gave it to her. He didn't want it to be completely hidden, but it couldn't be with him. Not anymore. He looked at his sister and sighed. "Bye, Mabel." He leaned over and kissed the side of her head, and she mumbled back but didn't move otherwise.

Next: backpack. He grabbed an extra change of clothes, his hat, his water bottle, and their lantern, then creeping down the stairs and sneaking towards his great uncle's room. He cracked open the door and saw the old man snoring loudly, sprawled in his bed. Dipper crept in, slipping open the man's bedside table fearlessly. He pulled out the man's wallet and pulled out half of the cash he found. He smiled softly, looking on the man. _Here I am, making you proud, Grunkle Stan._

After grabbing another bottle of water and all the fruit he could find, he headed out, not daring to look back lest he get second thoughts and feel weak. The morning air was thick and damp. He breathed it in, his eyes closed. Opening them, they were gold tinted.

_"You're really leaving it all behind? Don't you love them?"_

Dipper breathed in, afraid that his own mouth had made those noises and in an instant he was back in reality. He licked his lips, still resisting the temptation to turn around. "I love them more than you'll ever know. And I'll _never_ let them get hurt by you. Never." Dipper glared and started ahead, planning his strategy to get stronger.


	2. Chapter 2

_The last scene of this chapter is inspired by the song "Echo" by Vocaloid Gumi  
_

* * *

The Mystery Shack had that casual spookiness to it, as always. Floating eyeballs in jars were being poked at by young children, parents were taking pictures of poorly duct-taped mismatched animals, and a redhead sat at the front desk with a magazine in her hand, oblivious to everything around to her, or perhaps just indifferent.

Stan cleaned up well enough for his customers, a big smile always on his face to keep the tips coming in. "And here, ladies and gentlemen, we have a rare sight and freshly caught from the wild: the cheapskate!" The crowd laughed and snapped pictures at a poor man with roller-skates glued to his feet and pennies glued to his underwhelmed expression.

"Grunkle Stan, have you seen Dipper?"

The old man frowned at his great niece, a bit upset she would bother him as he was playing the Man of Mystery. "No, hun, now scram. I think the sweaty guy in the back is gonna buy another snow globe if I can keep 'im here for a couple more minutes."

Mabel frowned as her Grunkle left her behind without missing a step. She turned to the front desk and poked Wendy's shoe. "Wendy, have you seen Dipper?"

Wendy flipped a page and answered without looking up. "Naw. He's prolly somewhere in town."

"But he didn't tell me he was leaving," Mabel said, looking away worriedly. "And he didn't tell Grunkle Stan either. He never runs off in the morning without saying something."

Wendy shrugged, "I wouldn't worry about it. This town is teeny; he's gotta be somewhere nearby."

* * *

Dipper, in fact, wasn't in town anymore. Retracing steps he hoped he remembered accurately, Dipper made his way through the forest and to the small ravine which ran between him and the man cave. He could smell the stench of the Manotaurs from where he stood. Wiping his nose, he looked down and began the precarious climb down and back up the ravine.

He stood in the entrance of the cave and reached around to his backpack, pulling out a bag of beef jerky. He ripped the top open and shook it, the scent just barely leaving the bag before he felt the ground rumble.

From within the cave, a mass of man was stampeding towards him, but he wouldn't flinch. All the Manotaurs screeched to a stop a few feet in front of him, staring at him and a bit confused he didn't turn and run. "Destructor!" Chutzpar came to the front of the crowd, looking down at the boy who was just as scrawny and fragile looking as when he left the Manotaurs. "What are you doing here? I thought you decided to be a wimp." The huge creature crossed his arms and frowned down at the boy. The rest of the Manotaurs mumbled in agreement and Chutzpar began to reach for the jerky.

Dipper pulled the bag back nonchalantly, uninterested in letting them bully him around. For some reason, their size wasn't nearly as intimidating as he remembered; he supposed with all that he had gone through, and all he was currently going through, they weren't such a big deal. "I'm not here for this." Dipper didn't know why, but his voice got gruff and a bit lower as he addressed them, like they wouldn't take him seriously if he wasn't rough. "You guys taught me a lot of things about rites of passage and manhood and all that junk; you never told me how to be strong."_  
_

Chutzpar rose an eyebrow, surprised at the boy's lack of fear. The other Manotaurs mumbled among each other about what this kid thought he was doing. "Destructor, what are you asking?"

"Teach me strength. I need it." Dipper narrowed his eyes as he saw negative muttering. "Or does that scare you too?"

Chutzpar grimaced and turned around as the Manotaurs got louder in disapproval. The comment frustrated them, but the only way they knew how to prove themselves was to let the boy join. Dipper smiled slightly, knowing such an insult would work _more_ than twice on these proud dopes.

* * *

They had given him rocks to carry on his shoulders and tied stones to his ankles and wrists, making him follow them as they led him through the forest.

"Hey," Dipper complained, looking up at Chutzpar. "Is this really necessary? Also, this is the path to the Pain Hole."

Chutzpar ignored the boy for a moment, then looked down at him with a small smile. "Being strong isn't just muscle-though you need that too. If you don't have the guts to lift a boulder even if you have the muscles, they're useless."_  
_

Dipper was impressed that something so wise had come out of the smelly beast's mouth. But then Chutzpar belched and got a rough punch of approval from another; the two began to wrestle and Dipper was no longer impressed.

Approaching the run down area, Dipper actually felt fear in the pit of his stomach. He remembered the feeling of _whatever it was_ that shot up his arm and gripped his chest, squeezing as hard as it could. He trembled. "Actually, uh, can't we do something else first?" But they were already there, and as the Manotaurs shifted the weights off his shoulders and nudging him towards the hole in the ground, Dipper felt light headed.

He got to his knees and looked down at the hole, butterflies in his stomach trying to gnaw their way out. "Guys, I don't think I can-" He felt a nudge from behind and he fell forward, the weights on his wrists slamming his hands on either side of the hole. He swallowed and lifted his right arm, lowering his fist into the dark hole.

In an instant, he felt the pain ripple up his body, but he gritted his teeth so his screams would be muffled into moans. It was like something was gnawing on his bones, and after a moment he tried pulling his hand out. The weights had caught on something down there, or perhaps they were being held down-either way, pure fear surged through him, triggering the beginning of the end. As soon as he became frantic to get his hand out, his expression was wiped clean.

The Manotaurs watched as the crouched boy held his hand in the hole for longer than any of them had ever dared to. The boy began to convulse slightly, the pain visibly rippling up his arm and spreading to the rest of him. It was like he was pulsing in agony. The boy began to hitch up, like silent weeping. "Destructor?" Chutzpar warned, reaching his hand out.

But the boy shivered and shook and his head whipped up to look the beast in the eye. The kid's eyes were gold and an unnatural grin was spread across his face. The boy hadn't been crying. He had been laughing. Chuckles erupted into loud cackles and the entire crowd took a few steps back as the boy twisted on the ground.

_"Incredible! I'm tellin' ya, pain is just **hilarious**! It splits my sides, if only literally!" _The Manotaurs gasped and looked at each other, and Chutzpar stared confused at the boy. 'Dipper' only grinned at the beast, narrowing his eyes menacingly. _"I could do this all day. Unfortunately-"_ he pulled back from the hole at incredible speed and flung his arm toward the Manotaur. The weight that had been haphazardly tied to 'Dipper's' wrist came undone and shot through the air, hitting Chutzpar in the head with a loud _thump_. 'Dipper' laughed. _"I've got places to be. Things to burn. All that jazz~"_

The Manotaurs crowded around Chutzpar as he lay incapacitated on the ground. Petuitar stomped up to 'Dipper' and began to yell at him, grabbing his wrist. 'Dipper's' golden eyes shot up to the beast and he grabbed a huge tuft of fur on the beast's stomach, yanking away as hard as he could and ripping out the patch of hair with one movement. Petuitar howled and stepped back, letting the boy go as he held his hands to his stomach, which began to bleed from the flesh wound. 'Dipper' blurted out a loud laugh as he watched the beast writhe in pain. He tore the rest of the weights off his person and scrambled into the woods.

As soon as he saw the water tower's familiar red muffin, 'Dipper' stopped dead in his tracks, his face losing the smile. _"Dang it, kid. You're a slippery one..."_ he mumbled right before rubbing his eyes and looking at town with forest green irises. "Yeah, well," Dipper grunted, glancing behind him uncomfortably and making his way down the decline ahead of him. "I'm not really one to give up."

_'Not yet, anyway.'_ The voice in his head laughed a bit, though didn't give him black and white vision. Dipper gritted his teeth and, seeing the dump across town, made a bee-line for it.


	3. Chapter 3

"What happened to you? You look terrible. Oh, wait, that's just destitution."

Dipper twitched as he heard that annoying high pitched voice begin to coax him into his anger. Pacifica always managed that; she, above everyone else in the town, royally pissed him off. "Just because I don't blow my nose with Kleenex embroidered with gold doesn't make me poor. It just makes _you_ disgustingly rich." Dipper snarled at her, glancing at her over his shoulder. "Anyway, I'm busy." He began to scuffle away.

Pacifica scoffed; this peasant always spoke to her like that. Why wasn't he intimidated by her? "Whatever. I don't want to get whatever disease you have anyway. Your poverty is so contagious, it's already spreading to your arm." She pointed in disgust at his red right arm, which was still pulsing and twitching a bit.

Dipper looked down at his arm and winced, breaking into a run towards the dump.

Pacifica looked after him, confused. His face hadn't looked so much angry as it looked... scared. The boy seemed spooked, especially when he looked down at his arm. _Was_ he sick? If so, why was he headed for the dump? Pacifica growled at herself, looking away from Dipper's direction. She refused to get sucked into whatever mischief he was getting into; it was always like this with those stupid twins. Everything they did was always so dangerous, yet seemed from afar to be so... fun. Pacifica chewed the inside of her cheek and pulled out her phone, strutting away and into town. "Yea, Janice? I need shopping. Meet me at Club Pineapple in five." She shut the phone and shoved it into her purse, angry that she was even tempted to follow the awkward little boy.

* * *

Dipper entered the foul smelling dump, the towers of cars not even frightening anymore now that the sun was high and mighty. "Old Man McGucket?"

He heard a crash from around a junk heap, turning the corner to find the strange old man pouncing at what seemed to be a large squirrel. "Uhhm," Dipper squinted his eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't have..."

The squirrel darted away and McGucket turned rapidly towards Dipper. "Nonsense, boy! I sense you're in need of something."

Dipper raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You can sense things?"

McGucket laughed a bit. "Why, of course!" He suddenly got uncomfortably close to Dipper and his voice lowered. "It's a curse of mine..."

Dipper leaned back a bit, narrowing his eyes, but returned to business once the man seemed to zone out. "I see..." Dipper smiled a bit. "Then you can help me with my problem?"

McGucket chuckled giddily. "Why, I don't see what the big problem is, boyo! You've already got a real powerful being resting right up in there," McGucket said as he leaned over and knocked on Dipper's head.

Dipper backed away, squinting his eyes. "Yeah, I know. I don't _want_ it in me."

McGucket was strucken down, like it was the craziest thing he had ever heard. "You _don't_?"

Dipper grimaced and glanced away for a second, seemingly just as confused as the old man was. "No!"

The old man paused for a few moments, as if thinking intently and solemnly. Then, he rapidly grinned again and waved his fists in a jig. "Well, alrighty then! Won't be using the sacrificial goat tonight!" The man laughed and scuttled away, beginning to rummage through his things.

Dipper frowned and looked down. "Sacri... wait!" He ran after the man, trying to look over his shoulder. "So you'll help me then?"

"Sure! As long as yer willin' to pay the consequences," the old man said casually.

"... Consequences?" Dipper winced a bit, looking away uncomfortably.

* * *

"Dipper! Dipper, where are you?" Mabel was out, Waddles right by her side as she searched the streets of their tiny town for any sign of her brother. She sighed worriedly and stopped at a street corner in the middle of town, looking down to her pig and on the verge of tears. "Oh, Waddles. What could've happened to him?" Ahead, she caught sight of a familiar girl, out shopping with the two girls that always stuck by her side. For some reason, Mabel felt hope as she trotted to the girl. "Pacifica! Hey, Pacifica!"

Pacifica turned to that nasally girlish voice that called her so casually. She winced. Sure, they had mini-golfed and Mabel had been kind to her, but her friends didn't know that. And her pride was overwhelming when she was around her posse. She turned with a glare and crossed her arms. "Ugh. Girls, remember that hanging out with this kind of company will give you fleas. Oh, and you shouldn't hang out with pigs either." She and her girls laughed meanly, Pacifica turning away slightly.

"Have you seen Dipper around?"

Pacifica pouted her lips, stubbornly keeping her head turned away from the girl. "Oh, I thought that _was_ him. You two look so similar, you know. Then again, he probably smells better." The girls burst into cackles again.

Mabel frowned, but courted Waddles away from the girls in a huff rather than confront them. "We can't get distracted or discouraged, Waddles! We're on a rescue mission!"

Pacifica felt an ache in her chest. She had, in fact, seen the other twin. Not twenty minutes ago, actually. She even know where he had been headed. But again, her pride got the best of her, causing her to keep her head turned away from the pig girl and towards her friends.

Of course, once she sent her friends away with the lie she had golf lessons shortly, Pacifica began to walk to the Gravity Falls dump. The place was rancid, and she had never been close enough to see inside, much less smell it. She crinkled her nose as she approached it, regretting for a moment. But then she heard a strange noise. She glanced around her, not wanting to be seen entering the junkyard, but soon took in a deep breath and entered.

Before taking two steps in the place, the hood of a rusted car shot through the air in front of her, missing her by a few inches. She yelped and jumped back, staring at where it had come from in terror. The weird old prospector scrambled on all fours towards her, knocking her over before she was able to see what else was over there. The old man had an expression of... fear?

Now on the ground, Pacifica looked up to what she was alone with in the junkyard. The boy. That Pines boy, his head tilted sideways a bit and with his back to her, had something in his hands. She couldn't see what it was, as it was barely concealed by the scrawny body, but at least it was him. "Ugh," she humphed, beginning to pick herself up. "What the heck was that? All you ever do is dangerous stuff, and now my new skirt is filthy."

The boy perked up a bit, and as he turned she saw that in his hands was a large, lifeless rodent. His hands were wrapped around its neck as if he had strangled it to death. Dipper's eyes were tinted marigold, his mouth curled up into a grin as he stared unnervingly at her.

_"Well, well. If it isn't little miss Money herself." _The cackle that came out of his throat was _not_ normal. Deranged and manic. _"And here I was hoping to test his little noodle arms on something more than a squirrel. Killing is quite the rush, you know; even more than pain."_ He began to walk towards her. _"I was planning on offing that troublesome prospector, but you'll do just fine,"_ he giggled as he came closer, his eyes narrowing. _"Pine Tree doesn't much care for you anyway."_

(- Nasty cliffhanger in lieu of the Halloween season! -)


	4. Chapter 4

Fingers itching to strangle something else, "Dipper" tossed the dead squirrel at Pacifica casually, wanting to catch her off guard so he could tackle her and be at a full advantage.

She saw it, however, and her hand shot to the side to grab a discarded metal pipe that stuck out of the junk heap beside her. She held it tightly and swung with incredible accuracy, driving the limp rodent to a different corner of the dump with a hollow _thump_. She then held the pipe out in front of her threateningly. "Don't mess with me you... you whatever-you-are."

"Dipper" cackled again, both at her spice and her comment. "Whaddya talking about? It's your boy Dipper, right here in the flesh." And he waved his hands at her mockingly, showing off a snide grin at her.

She narrowed her perfectly makeup-ed eyes, pursing her lips. "Tshh. I've seen enough weird stuff around here to know that something could be going on. And I know Mister Scaredy-Cat well enough to know that something _is_ going on."

"You don't think Dipper would go bananas like this?" The boy cooed in a mock.

Pacifica glared. "Never."

"Dipper" stared uninterested for a few moments, pondering the girl's combative stance and her fiery disposition. He then burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Aww, gee, what gave it away? It had to have been something pretty obvious to get _your_ slow head to notice it. Then again, you've got some confidence. Does that come from your rich piousness or that pesky human nature to feel invulnerable?"

Pacifica looked away for a moment, now _sure_ that this couldn't be Dipper; not with that vocabulary. _Or sass,_ she thought. But _she_ had plenty of that to go around. "It comes from me knowing that if you get close to me and I swing this pipe into your head, you're not getting up for a while."

He laughed meanly. "Oh yeah, go ahead. Swing that pipe into _Dipper's head_. See where that gets you!" He chortled, shaking his head. "Dumb humans, always thinking they have strength." He lunged forward and grabbed the pipe with both hands, ready to rip it away from her. "You're no stronger than Pine Tree! In the end, you're all just the same. Scared and weak!"

She braced herself and held on with all her might. "If we're all the same, then Dipper's just as ready to resist as I am." She looked into "Dipper's" gold tinted eyes, straining to keep herself steady on the ground. "C'mon, you big dork! I thought you were done with being a wimp this summer. Fight back!"

"Dipper" lurched and his eyes flickered. He grunted and pulled away slightly, wincing as a small battle was fought inside for the reigns. His grip loosened on the pipe and Pacifica yanked it away from his grip, instinctively bringing it to the side and swinging it into the boy's stomach. A bark of pain was wrenched from his throat as he was thrown to the ground by the attack. He held onto his stomach and groaned.

Pacifica gasped slightly as she saw him hit the ground and wriggle in pain. Dropping the pipe, she brought a hand to her mouth. "Oh my gosh. I'm..." She cut herself off, realizing she was just about to _apologize_. What the heck? She took a deep breath and got to her knees beside him. "Are you, like... okay?"

He slowly opened his eyes, looking up to her shocked form beside him. At least his eyes were back to normal. He moaned slightly and rolled over, or at least tried to. "Huu-I'm fine. Just, need to get my breath back. Maybe focus on healing whatever soft tissue you ruptured. Might've been my spleen; can't know for sure," he mumbled.

And she giggled, embarrassed and turning away slightly. She had faced the demon head on but it hadn't meant she wasn't scared. The look in "Dipper's" eyes was terrifying. And in comparison, she realized how cute the real Dipper looked with that always-slightly-concerned pout on his face and those never-quite-rested eyes. She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking away a bit. "Well, once you get back on your feet, I hope you're ready to apologize. You nearly hit me with that dumb car hood."

Dipper put a hand over his eyes, gritting his teeth. "I thought you established that wasn't _me._"

She frowned, turning away from the boy who seemed to be accusing her. She refused to have fingers pointed at her-_even if he is true_. She scoffed. "That doesn't matter. You got yourself into that trouble. I was an innocent bystander."

He groaned angrily, rolling over and getting to his knees. "You are _impossible. _I can never relax when you're around, can I?" He stopped himself after he said it. _Never relax. _Wasn't that his goal? He needed to be on guard constantly, protecting himself against Bill's infiltration and relentless attacks. This was rather perfect, actually. He turned to Pacifica, suddenly looking her in the eye excitedly and a bit too close than usual. "Pacifica! I need to stay at your house for a bit."

She recoiled like he had terrible breath-well, he _did-_her face scrunching in horror like he was holding a snake to her face. "Wh... Hey, now! You can't ask me that right after you went all freaky on me!"_  
_

He shook his head. "You owe me! You hit me in the ribs with a metal bar, remember?"

She glared and looked down. "Ugh." Was he really going to use that against her?

"And besides, it'll only be for a few days at the most. I... don't have anywhere else to stay." He looked away as well.

Pacifica's eyes went back to his, confused a bit. "What happened to your Shack? Did it get torn down again?"

Dipper frowned a bit, biting his lip. "No. It's just... I can't." He stared at his right arm, tracing it with his fingers and feeling its hot and strained nerves twitch a bit. It was still traumatized from the Pain Hole.

Pacifica looked at his arm, still confused on what it was about. She did know, though, that every problem the boy was having right now was related to what had possessed him. She was sure that's what it was: possession. Nothing about that crazed maniac was like this boy. The only explanation was that he had been removed completely and something foreign took his place. She sighed, watching his face. Eventually, she got to her feet and brushed the dirt off her skirt and straightened her hair. She looked to the exit with her hand on her hip, stubbornly refusing to look at the boy.

She walked a bit towards the exit, crossing her arms as she stopped half way there as if she was still thinking. She looked over her shoulder, frowning at the boy. "Well? Get over here." She strode onward, not wanting anyone to see her leading this lowly boy to her house.

Dipper watched as she took her poses, finally calling him over like a peasant. It wasn't exactly hospitable, but it was good enough. He grinned, struggling to his feet and trotting after her with one hand holding his stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

_Mood of first scene was inspired listening to "Five Nights at Freddy's" by The Living Tombstone. The first two bolded lines are quoted from "Spooky's House of Jumpscares"_

_Warning: the first scene is a very graphic nightmare_

* * *

**_To become a puppet is to rid oneself of the pain and harshness of choice_.**

Nightmares are always vague and twisted in plot, but somehow details are impeccably crisp and clear. The pristine shine of a sewing needle and the sound it makes when piercing through the delicate skin on the upper lip. The echo inside his own head while straining to make a sound against the tight grip on the throat, unable to scream or shout or beg. The feeling that his shoulders just might rip if the chains linking his wrists behind his back pulled down any harder. Tattered clothes and burning skin, sizzling with agony from the stress.

_**Now nothing you do is your fault. Now you belong to something. You belong to me.**_

Twine taut after shredding itself through both lips, pulling them shut permanently. It felt as if every part of him was being bound and closed off. His eyes stayed untouched, however; he supposed it was because the triangle already had one. He was left to watch as chains rusted away and his arms were perforated by the needle, in and out and in and out... Eventually they were dragged up by the will of His pleasure: the invisible puppeteer. His bare legs twitched and thrashed, twine worming under the skin that oozed and dripped without end. Heart pounding so hard he thought it might leave a bruise if it didn't burst right there in his chest. Every inch of him throbbed and wished for it to stop.

_**Don't sprain your heart tonight. You never know when you might need it. Or when **_**I**_** might need it.**_

* * *

His body scrunched into a tense mess and his eyes shot open to see if He was still watching him. He was instantly met with pitch blackness, and the fear of it gripped his lungs. It was the gaping pit underneath the bed he had just fallen off of. Dipper wondered if his ears were ringing, why his face was wet, and where he was right now. Frankly, the entire world seemed confusing and collapsible at the moment, as if it was all a movie set and reality was actually neverending twine. It made him a little nauseous.

"Hey."

Dipper tensed again, his head whirling around and his eyes shooting to where the small grumble came from. He realized he was gasping for air, as the voice was slightly drowned out. Eyes locked on her. Pacifica; even in the dead of night she looked ready for a photo shoot.

"What the heck was that?"

Frowning, he blinked a few times as he wrapped his head around everything that was happening. He was at Pacifica's house-in one of the guest rooms to be precise-and, well, actually was currently on the floor.

"Pa... What do you m-What are you doing here?" His mind struggled to decide which questions to ask, still feeling extremely uncomfortable with her around.

"Uh, what am I doing here? You were just screaming bloody murder. If my parents didn't sleep on the other side of the mansion, you and I would both be toast." Her face scrunched in disgust, not noticing Dipper's face pale as he heard the tale. "So. What the heck?"

"Uhh." His tongue felt numb. He looked at his feet, still tangled in bed sheets, then at the hardwood floor he was sitting on. He had fallen out of bed, which is probably what woke him up. He shook himself a bit, gripping the side of the bed in preparation to get back up. "N-nightmare. I'm fine."

Pacifica watched him for a moment, then scoffed with a snap of her head. "Tssh, speak for yourself. Interrupting sleep causes strain on the eyes. I'm going to have old lady wrinkles if you keep waking me up, so keep it down."

Dipper frowned, standing up once she turned her back on him to leave. "Well, _sorry_. I'll try to keep my horrifically vivid nightmares under control so _you_ can get your beauty sleep."

"Yeah. Whatever." She was ready to leave, so close to strutting away, but for some reason she stopped to listen to him get up. Her mind worked, still curious and worried about the situation. "Your sister was looking for you earlier today."

Dipper pulled the sheets off the ground and onto the bed. "Oh." His voice was strange; trying to be uninterested but wavering to the point of failure.

Pacifica turned to him fully with her arms folded across her abdomen. "'Oh'? I thought you two were close. Shouldn't you be with her?"

"It's none of your business!" He scoffed in frustration as he turned his face away.

"None of my business?" She stomped, vexed that the boy would sneer at her like that. "Coming from the boy who's breathing _my_ family's air in _my_ family's house under an act of _charity_? I'd say you owe me your business!"

"You saw what happened to me, Pacifica!"

Both became deathly quiet. Pacifica suddenly silenced. For some reason she felt shocked into the realization that he had been screaming at her. It made her cheeks go hot.

Dipper sighed, also blushing but for a number of emotions; he felt angry and afraid and ashamed. "You saw what happened. What He was capable of," he said with more of a whine. "I can't control it. Until I can, I need to stay away from my family." He turned his back to Pacifica, not wanting to see her expression. "It's that simple." He crawled into bed and laid down.

Pacifica stood in disbelief, finding that she didn't know this boy at all. "Simple, huh?" Her nose wrinkled as he kept his face turned away from her. What a child! She snorted and crossed her arms, storming away. "Fine." She swung the door open and left without closing it behind her.

Dipper turned his head, noticing this particular detail. Mabel knew he couldn't sleep with their bedroom or closet doors open, and she always closed them for him if he was in bed reading already. Sometimes a door would swing open when they were already in bed and Mabel would get _out of bed in the dark_ to go close it so he could sleep. God, he missed her.

Fiddling his fingers, he turned towards the door and pulled himself into a sitting position. He glanced down at the foot of the bed, remembering the sight of that inky black crevice that waited for his feet if he let them lower to the ground. Many kids were scared of the space under their beds, but Dipper felt he had plenty of justification for this one. In Gravity Falls, anything could be under there.

His toes curled as he looked between the base of the bed and the gaping doorway. He didn't know which one was more frightening, and was frantic to decide between the two. As he held his breath to keep his courage from leaking out, he pulled up his sheets to prepare the run to the door. Before the count down in his head ended, a faint drone began growing in the hallway. His knuckles turned white as he was startled back into his bed, his eyes glued to the gaping darkness of the open door to the hallway. Something was scraping on the floor, just lightly, and a light began to fade into sight. If only he had his journal, he could look up whatever type of sprite or ghost-no, it could be any number of things, any of which could be dangerous, or not. With the scraping growing louder and the light brighter, Dipper realized that his book had acted as his back bone. It was gone, and as the last straw of stresses he was reduced to a quivering puddle of frozen terror. Without it, after all, what could he do?

What appeared in the doorway was startling for many reasons. The sight of something coming into definite view gave Dipper's face an expression of utter horror. As the little girl in the doorway looked him in the eye, she grimaced with confusion at his terror. It took him a moment and a half to realize that it was Pacifica. And another moment to register what she had under her arm.

"You're kidding."

She puffed up with a pout, looking down at the candle she held with her left hand as she adjusted her right. "Excuse me?"

He stared. "You-what did you-?" His eyes went down to the mattress under her free arm; the one she had been dragging down the hallway to his room. "Did you haul that down here from your room?"

She flushed. "As if! There's another guest room next door, bone-head," she said with lips pursed and eyes stuck on the candle. She left the mattress in the doorway and set the candle on the floor, gripping the front of it with both hands.

Dipper popped out of bed, trotting to her to take the other end and help her drag the mattress next to his bed. As it was laid down and pressed right next to the guest bed, the width of the mattress covered the gap beneath the bed, sealing the darkness up. Smiling, Dipper looked over to Pacifica, who was fetching the candle. "What's this all about?" he asked, judgement absent from his voice.

Regardless, Pacifica blushed as if she was being attacked and she frowned as she closed the door. "I was reading a scary book, okay? The nearest servant is on the upper floor, and I just... I can do what I want, okay?" She looked away again. The real reason for this was locked away from Dipper.

He couldn't help but smile a bit. "Ever had a sleepover before?"

_No, but I've wanted to_. Her heart sped for a second, as he practically read her mind on why she was here. Instead, she snorted. "What's that?"

He chuckled sadly. "I see. Well, I mean, it kinda starts like this. Mabel and I have them lots nowadays."

Pacifica looked at him with interest, setting the candle on the bedside table and stepping up on the floor mattress to sit on the bed. "Oh?" She tried to make it sound sassy.

He smiled, sitting on the mattress on the ground. "Yeah. We play golf, talk about all sorts of stuff, eat junk food." He looked to the rustled blanket on his new mattress-he knew instinctively that the bed was Pacifica's now-and tugged at them as the memories tugged at him. Those were good times. The fear of how his sister was faring, as well as the possibility that he might not see her again, flooded him. He solemnly laid down again.

Pacifica frowned as he turned into himself yet again. What was with that? Was it something she was doing? She gritted her teeth in frustration; she wasn't used to him. Never was someone lukewarm with her relationship-wise. Either people adored her or enviously despised her. Dipper's in-between was perplexing. He wasn't even between those options, but on a different scale altogether. Vexing.

Dipper rolled to his back, glancing up as Pacifica got under the covers he had just been in. He let out his breath, glancing to the edge of his mattress that now pressed up against the base of the bed and closed off the gaping darkness. He slowly relaxed into the unnaturally comfortable mattress, realizing that he was exhausted. "Night," he hummed subconsciously.

Pacifica frowned, unsure what he meant by that. She gradually turned to see him off the edge of the bed, quizzically gazing at him. But he was already asleep, it seemed. She flopped back onto the bed, sighing in disappointment.

* * *

(_The beginning of this chapter was written before Northwest Mansion Noir aired. Thus, the rest of this story takes place before its occurrence, with a bit of confused Dipcifica here and there because I shipped them from the start. Basically, I myself don't know what to do with the timeline of Devil Within. Look, it's late okay? What do you want from me?) _


	6. Chapter 6

_Warning: more intense imagery ahead. Seriously, if anything thus far has upset you, just click away_

* * *

"I still can't believe you made me switch the mattresses," Dipper said.

Pacifica huffed as Dipper stood at her bedroom door. "You had just been _sweating_ in those filthy sheets. It's not like I was going to sleep in them." He still grumbled. She glared. "You're just lucky I didn't go back to my own bedroom."

He crossed his arms in response, wondering if she was rubbing off on him a bit. "I thought you had a scary story in your head," he mocked.

She merely tsked back, whipping her hair around in a bratty way. "I'm going to clean up. Don't let anyone find out about you." And she walked off.

Dipper pursed his lips as Pacifica left, her actions baffling him. This was just the way she was. No use getting too insulted by it. As he cleaned up the bed sheets, folding them into their place even though he was sure there were maids around to do it, his mind clunked. Was it the right decision, running away? What about Grunkle Stan and Mabel? And if this didn't work out, where could he possibly go next? Ugh, it was so hard to think, so nerve-wracking a task. Bill was listening. Damnit, that satanic tortilla chip was always listening.

_Hey now, don't say 'satanic'. I'm nowhere near HIS level of nasty, though I admit to competing with the tyrant from time to time._

Dipper felt his chest clench and a familiar wave of nausea and ice surge through his body. He stood straight and turned towards the hallway where, on the wall next to a portrait, a large mirror hung. He saw his own reflection and shuddered. His eyes were completely black, from the iris to the whites. And his skin was slightly darker as well, like a shadow was upon him. His hair shone, tinted gold. Everything else in the reflection seemed brighter, although the room was by no means lit; his figure simply sucked light away like a black hole.

Dipper stood horrified then rubbed his eyes with an arm. "S-stop messing with me!" He looked back to the mirror and sure enough the disturbing image was gone. Laughter still echoed in his head.

_Hahahah! Fun, huh? Isn't it crazy that you don't know your own likeness unless you see a reflection? You've never seen your own face with your own eyes before! All copies aside, in actuality you could look like anything._

Dipper shuddered as the voice rung irritatingly loud in his ears. "Stop! GO AWAY!" he shouted, just the sound of Bill making him feel panicked. His mind filled with thoughts of twine. Twisting, strangling twine.

_Re~LAX, kid! At this rate you're gonna get grey hair by high school. And those lines under your eyes? Heh, hello~o future heart attack!_

Dipper forced himself to breathe; in and out, in and out. He felt impending doom upon him, like the walls were creeping up on him in every direction, and he shut his eyes to block out the world. His own eyes were disobeying him, slaving away for Bill! "It's not real. You're just a dream, you only survive in dreams! Nothing you make is real," Dipper huffed in a strenuous string of assurances. He had to believe them.

_Says you, Pine! And yet, recalling just a week or so ago brings contrary evidence, now don't it? How real was I when I filled your skin and walked the ground while you floated around like a puff of cotton? When I talked to your family and friends, when I shoved your sister around-how real was I then?_

He had to believe that Bill couldn't do anything. "You're NOT. You can't." Dipper scruffed up his hair with his anxious fingers. The muscles in his shoulders and back were strung so tightly that it hurt to scratch his own head. This shot even more anxiousness throughout him, and it all served to send his heart beating faster and faster. "I won't let you!"

_Let me? ... You won't LET me?_

His eyes opened. The edges of his vision was dim, like the scorched edges of parchment that survived a fire. He focused on his reflection again, saw that his eyes were black all the way through again, wider than he thought they could go. His mouth was open in shock, hair shining gold. He felt like he was being dipped in a mist of hostile intentions. It surrounded him, and worse was right behind him, right up against his back and ready to tear at him. The noxious room was made just for him, and it would follow him wherever he went-if he could move. Of course, his legs were useless now. Petrified by his reflections' ghastly gaze. He couldn't look away because _it_ wouldn't, and half of his mind insisted that _he_ ought to break the gaze so his reflection would, but the other shouted that no, no it wouldn't look away. It would seize the opportunity to lunge through the mirror's frame and-and...

Dipper felt his chest heave, his lungs constricting much like they weren't supposed to. The previous wave of cold was replaced with a raging heat that sent his chilled sweat into overdrive. A string of thoughts flung about rapidly in his head. He was going to faint. He was going to vomit. He was going to die. Laughter rang through his skull.

_Did you know that children as young as five can have panic attacks? Crazy world, huh?_

He crumpled to the floor, suddenly extremely aware of the shivers that contorted his body. The heat in him chilled again, and he gripped his arms to stop them from shuddering so appallingly. Twine ran through them; he could feel it pulling through. How disturbing, to think that he was strung up with the stuff, lined with Bill's puppeteer strings.

Dipper scratched at his arm to get at the monster underneath his skin. It was right there-he could feel it! If he could only find the twine that was strung through his body and pull it all out. His fingernails, though small and short, served well enough to tear skin.

* * *

Noon was the time of the meeting in the Shack. Among those who filed in were Soos, Wendy, Candy and Grenda, Toby Determined, Lazy Susan, and Gompers. Stan sat on the couch, eyes on the TV, and Waddles trotted up to Gompers in a friendly sort of greeting.

Mabel soon walked in front of them all, standing on top of the large animal skull that served as their side table and cleared her throat. "Okay, people," she called, quieting the jabber of the group. "We all know why I've gathered you today."

"Not me," called out Toby, helplessly.

Wendy sighed irritably. "Seriously, Determined? You could at least try to not be the _last_ person in town to know about things. You know, as a _reporter_."

"Dipper's gone missing!" shouted Grenda, hands going to her hips. "No one's seen him since the day before yesterday."

"We suspect foul play," Candy said, her eyes narrowing.

Mabel coughed again, hands on her hips as well. "Okay, so first we need to share info. Does anyone know of places Dipper could have gone where no one would find him?"

"The theater was closed after the roof collapsed from all those explosions last week," Soos said.

"I like to hide behind the dumpsters near Club Pineapple to watch beautiful people from afar!" Grenda yelled.

"The cemetery is usually quiet, unless there is a rave party or when the spirits are restless," said Candy.

"And also, y'know, the entire forest that surrounds the town," said Wendy, frowning sadly. "If he's really not in town anymore, I don't know where we'd start."

Mabel stood straight. "We start in town! Even if we don't find him, there must be clues around. Someone could've seen him." She looked at Wendy meaningly, wanting the red-head's support.

Wendy pressed her lips together, recognizing that spark of desperation in Mabel's eyes. Wendy nodded, forcing a strong and sure smile to her features.

Mabel smiled slightly in response. "Alright! Let's go find my brother!"


End file.
